hanging it up, I tried on the next. This one was royal blue with an asymmetrical neckline. I walked out on my own this time.
“It does not hide that big bum of yours, but the color is flattering.”
“Hey, big butts are in, you know. JLo, Kim Kardashian, ever heard of them?” Why was I defending myself? I did not have a wide ass.
“Go try the next.”
I trudged back into the dressing room. This was worse than shopping with my mother.
The last dress was dark red with a sweetheart neckline and a full and rather short skirt. I felt like I was ready to skate in the Olympics.
I stepped out of the dressing room and stood there, bracing myself for another blow to my ego. She shook her head. “Awful. Go change.” She turned and walked to the front of the store.
Before I could make my way back, a familiar voice stopped me.
“Rosalyn Strickland?”
Oh no. Tatum Hopkins. Could my life possibly suck any harder?
Tatum and I attended Huntingford Prep together. Tatum had been a cheerleader, student class rep, Winter Court Queen, and valedictorian. Yeah, I thought she was overcompensating, too. Tatum’s mom, Stella was in my mom’s bridge club, so I knew the news of my shopping in the ritziest boutique in town would find its way to my mother sooner rather than later.
Tatum kissed the airspace near my cheek. “Oh my gosh, look at you. You look fantastic.” She tossed her shiny dark hair and smiled. She wore a leather Burberry jacket, skinny jeans, Manolo ankle boots, and clutched a Gucci purse.
“You too, Tatum. How are you?”
“I’m home from med school for the weekend. I’m trying to decide where to do my residency. It’s so hard.”
I tried to smile through the pain. Tatum had her life all mapped out. I didn’t even know what useless class I was going to take next semester. “I’m sure. Well, it’s been just swell seeing you. Take care now.” I spun toward my dressing room.
“Wait, what have you been up to?”
I turned back, with a phony smile on my face. “I’ve been taking classes at the city college. It’s just great.”
“You must be doing well to shop in here. Last I heard you were slumming it as a waitress.”
She did not just say that. With narrowed eyes, I straightened my spine. “Oh, I still am. I work at Ma’s Diner. You should come in sometime and try the pancakes. If you don’t eat carbs, you could always purge them later, like you used to do in high school.”
The smile slowly faded from her face.
“Tell your mom hello for me.” I returned to the dressing room and quickly changed into my own clothes, then stood there for a few minutes, leaning against the wall. The Tatums of the world made me feel like crap. All that “only you can make yourself feel inferior” blah, blah, blah was bullshit. I felt just fine about myself before she showed up. Mostly. I hated running into people from my old life. Axton of course, being the exception. He was an oddball, like me. And he loved me just the way I was.
When I came out of the dressing room, Tatum was gone and I sighed with relief. It would have been too humiliating to put the dresses back with her standing there, knowing I couldn’t afford them.
The saleswoman took the them out of my hands, then hung the blue and red on the rack. Still holding the black one, she walked to a small desk with gilt accents and removed the price tag. When she put the dress in a garment bag with the Pour Femme logo on it, I started to panic. Even if I sold a kidney, I couldn’t afford that dress.
“I’m not really sure about the black one. I need to think about it.” I began edging toward the door.
She wrote out a ticket. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s the best looking of the three and flatters you the most.”
She held out the bag to me. “Here you go. Do you have shoes to go with that?”
I stared at her for a moment. “Um…yes?”
“Good. Tell them next time to give a few days’ notice. You would have had more of a selection if I had time for alterations.”
“You bet.” I grabbed the bag and made a run for it.
It wasn’t until I was sitting in my car that I realized I hadn’t asked her anything about NorthStar. I dropped my head on the steering wheel. I was so freaked out at seeing Tatum Hopkins and the thought of having to pay for the dress, that I forgot my first objective.
I reached over to the passenger seat and ran my hand along the side of the bag. A little thrill shot through me. At least I got something out of it.
As I drove to Jacks’ house, the wind made a horrible
Scotty answered the door in a Spiderman costume. I peered down at him, a confused expression on my face. “Excuse me, Spiderman, do I have the wrong house? I’m looking for my nephew, Scotty.”
He started laughing like a little maniac and pulled up his mask. “It’s me, Aunt Rose. I fooled you.”
I gasped. “You sure did. I thought I was at Spiderman’s place by mistake.”
He turned and ran toward living room, leaving me to step in and close the door. The savory smell of oregano and tomato filled the house and made my mouth water.
Although I was alone in the foyer, all of the sudden every hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Only one person caused that reaction.
I swung around, my hand on the door knob, ready to make a run for it.
“Hello, Rosalyn.”
The theme from
“I see you’re as surprised as I am.” She didn’t look surprised. She looked like she’d stepped on a turd.
“I guess so.”
Her posture was as stiff as always. She wore silky golden pants and a flowing tunic. She took in my appearance as well, her gaze landing on my jeans.
“I talked to Stella Hopkins today. She said Tatum ran into you at Pour Femme.”
I leaned against the door and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. Here we go. “Yep.”
“First of all, what were you doing there?” She lifted her nose in the air. “I know for a fact you can’t afford it.”
“Hey, have you been hacking into my bank account again?”
“I know you like to think you’re amusing, Rosalyn, but Tatum was traumatized by your rude behavior.”
Really? Traumatized? How does the woman expect to become a doctor if she can’t handle one little conversation? With a waitress, no less? Still, I said nothing. I was in Jacks’ home and the last thing I wanted was another incident with my mother.
“She’s gotten treatment for her eating disorder. You were rude and hateful. And while you sneer at people like Tatum, at least she’s doing something with her life.”
I was getting a weird sense of deja vu, like I’d had this conversation before. Like a thousand times. And she was wrong — I didn’t sneer, I’d derided. Totally different.
Before Barbara could speak again, my sister stepped into the foyer. “Hey, you two. Isn’t this nice?”
We both gaped at her as if she’d escaped from a mental health facility and was still wearing the straight jacket. Her smile looked more like a grimace and her wide eyes reminded me of a frightened horse, all wild, with the whites showing. “How about a glass of wine? Does anyone want a glass of wine?” she asked before fleeing.
A glass? How about the whole freaking bottle?
My mother and I eyeballed one another as we walked from the foyer into the living room. Scotty was telling
